In line at the "It's a Small World After All" ride -- the first line of the day for us --  a grown man came up behind us, and barely mumbled "excuse me" as he slid by.  Now, this sort of thing actually isn't uncommon at Disneyland, as moms and dads try to catch up with their families who jumped ahead in line for any number of reasons.  So, normally it's no big deal to let the line intruder pass.  But in this case we watched as the man did this all the way until he boarded a little yellow boat -- all by himself.

 

Set aside for a moment that an adult, alone at Disneyland, would break the most sacred of Disneyland rules: No cutting. We're talking about the "It's a Small World" ride here! Not Indiana Jones, not the Matterhorn...."It's a Small World????"

 

If it weren't for all the people who say "it's a classic," the ride would have been torn down and turned into a new ride back in the "Black Hole" days. Couldn't you just see a towering Anthony Perkins, saving us from the black hole's horrible vortex of doom? 

 

Happily, this was the worst moment of a day I had been dreading. Over the 9 days, as I watched the kids get more and more tired, less and less easy to please, I started to worry about 2 things. First, if a plane full of 150 people would survive being with my children after this. I expected the worst of the worst. Second, if a plane full of 150 people would survive being with me after spending 4 more hours in the park's 90+ degree heat, and then boarding the flight unshowered.

 

Instead, everything went well. Great in fact. We hit Small World -- which had Lucy singing under her breath the whole time --  the Alice in Wonderland ride, the Teacups for an encore, and finished off with a ride on the Merry-go-Round and Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. We picked up some crap, like t-shirts and a Mickey Mouse doll for Alice. And headed for the car. 

 

At first, my fears started to seem justified. Alice had her biggest, most furious melt-down, possibly ever as we we waited for the valet to pull up with the car. And Lucy started walking like a drunk because she was so exhausted. 

 

But, after a car ride and two back seat naps, they were fine. (Lucy fell asleep within 30 seconds of getting in the car). And we were fine. We were more fine after coffee....but fine. The flight home was uneventful. And we took a taxi from the airport home.

 

The point?

 

We went to California during the busiest time of year. Went to Legoland, SeaWorld and San Diego's most popular beach during thier busiest times. We went to Disneyland, not only during thier most crowded season, but at the time of their 50th anniversary --- arguably, the busiest and most crowded the park has ever been. And did all of this while the temparatures ranged in the 90s.  And yet, we came back feeling like we had fun, without sunburns, and nothing but good feelings about everything we did except for that damned morning at SeaWorld, which I'm going to blame on the outrageous ticket prices.

 

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait to go back. That is, when Lucy breaks the 42 inches barrier so she can ride more rides. And when Alice breaks the mopple barrier, so Martha can get some sleep next time.

 

<photos: Alice knocks on the White Rabbit's door; Mr. Toad and the Family; Lucy's collapse on the way to the airport; The kids make a strategy for how to behave on the airplane>

 

It was yesterday. I don't know. I don't remember. It was a GREAT, long day.  It was stinkin' hot. It involved rides, and Aladdin musical, swimming, and something else.

 

 

 

Yesterday, I actually heard my daughter utter the words: "I WANT to go to ToonTown, Daddy, and I WANT to go RIGHT NOW!!!"

 

I just looked at her. I grabbed my camera, and said "say that again!" (See third pic below). When I told her I wanted more emphasis -- and maybe some foot-stomping, she finally figured out I was ridiculing her. She didn't think it was as funny as I did.

 

But this is how things were after 1) Monorail ride, 2) Buzzlightyear ride, 3) Neverland ride, 4) Dumbo ride, 5) Pirates of the Carribean, 6) Haunted Mansion, 7) Splash Mountain, and 8) The Winnie the Pooh Ride. And it was not even yet noon.

 

The highlight of the morning was supposed to be Splash Mountain. Ever since one of Lucy's friends mentioned Splash Mountain to her, insisting that it was the coolest thing ever, we have endured a lot of questioning. "How does Splash Mountain work," and "are we going to Splash Mountain yet," and "is THIS Splash Mountain," and so on.

 

But somehow, in the 100 yards or so between the Haunted Mansion and Splash Mountain, Lucy changed her mind.

 

"THERE IT IS! Are you READY for SPLASH MOUNTAIN LUCY???" I asked.

"I'm not going."

"What?"

"I saaaaiiiidddd, No. I don't want to go."

"But you've been talking about it for weeks, Lucy."

"You asked me if I was READY and the ANSWER is NO."
 

Since we had acquired a line-cutting miracle called a Fast Pass, Lucy was going on the ride, whether she was ready or not. Martha will have to give you the exact quote, because I held Alice in the shade while they took the float trip. But apparently Lucy got off the ride and said  "I NEVER want to go on THAT ride AGAIN!"

 

For some reason, Lucy has decided she hated rides that got her wet in any way, nevermind the 90+ degree weather. And her questions that used to be about Splash Mountain got replaced with questions about the dampness of other attractions.  "Is THIS ride going to get me wet?" and "Will I get wet on it," and "this ISN'T Splash Mountain, is it?"

 

That's why we went on Winnie the Pooh next. Winnie is a dry guy. 

 

While Lucy had gone on water strike, Alice was starting to melt in her stroller. By the time we got to lunch, she was practically throwing little white-fisted punches at us. Lucy also was worn out. "I'm tired," she said, and was asleep on my lap 30 seconds later. So it was back to the hotel room (Martha and I took turns hauling all forty pounds of hot Lucy). When we got there, Lucy woke up (for good) and Alice went to sleep for a six-hour nap. I had to check several times to make sure she was still alive.

 

What happened with Lucy next, well, Martha will have to tell you, since she took the kid out solo, while I watched Alice. Meanwhile, Lucy has had just one question for me, something that makes no sense at all in light of her refusal to go on wet rides:

 

"When can we go swimming?'

 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So, here are 2,000 words telling you all you need to know about Lucy and Alice, halfway through day one at Disneyland.

I'm going to keep this entry short, because our wake up call tomorrow is 5 a.m. The plan is to drive the 97 miles to Disneyland and be at the hotel before the park opens. Even Lucy hasn't been up that early, and I'm preparing myself for the worst.

 

The plan was to have no plans today. With three days at Disneyland around the corner, we thought it would be a good idea to have a restful, peaceful, napful kind of day around the SeaLodge. The kids both have an incredibly exhausted look in their eye. We're hoping a one day recess would re-energize them.

 

We mostly had a great day. Beach time, sushi, a couple of long swims, a nap. Alice was, for some reason, crabby all day. It's possible she's just had enough. I recall taking Lucy to San Francisco at about this age, and we concluded that 5 days was the limit. I think we're either learning that again, or Alice just can't handle another night on the SeaLodge's rock hard pillows

 

What else could we do but get her a baseball sized strawberry ice cream cone?

 

Now that our SeaLodge experience is behind us, here's the conclusion:

Clearly a great location, and kid friendly. We can understand why people with families come here. But it's just not enough to make up for the customer service, the accommodations and the price tag.

 

<photos: Alice super pissed off for the 800th time of the day; Ice cream therapy; Lucy looking like she just may need some sleep; Lucy passed out from chocolate overload>

Today was the reason why we chose to come to La Jolla for our first family-of-four vacation. Nichole & Peter's wedding reception gave us the excuse to make Southern California our destination, and we wanted to plan our day so that we'd be ready to party. 

 

 We'd get plenty of sleep in the morning. We'd get a scrambled egg for Alice. We'd make our way to the ocean and  have a leisurely time on the beach in the morning. We'd roll up the hill for a light lunch and a nice bowl of ice cream. We'd get back to the hotel in time for long naps. Kids would be energized for the party.

 

Oddly enough, that's just how the day went, but for the adjectives.

 

Allow me to swap in the proper ones.

 

We slept about 45 minutes longer than the past few days (hey, we'll take it!). We had huevos rancheros, oatmeal, granola and yogurt, french toast, and fresh squeezed orange juice. We rolled our way down to the ocean, then Martha and I took turns running up and down the beach after Lucy (no exaggeration ... the kid ran north and south along the surf for at least two miles, possibly more, without  rest or running out of breath). We went into town for an amazing  hearty lunch of salmon sandwiches and fish tacos. We passed on the bowl of ice cream in favor of the three scoop, three topping banana split, under a blanket of gummy bears. We got back to the hotel with just enough time to grab a map, change a horrible, awful diaper, and head off to the party. And the kids were both completley exhausted. Alice fell asleep on the way there, and Lucy was "on the fritz" -- the term we use to describe her when she starts babbling in nonsense the same way a robot might as its batteries wore out.

 

Fortunately, Lucy and Alice are both good at parties, and once they saw the bowl of chips, they were fine. Lucy explained on demand that she was 4 and 11/12ths to those who asked. Alice smiled at everyone who looked at her.

 

Lucy also helped a young girl with a potty problem, which was a very gracious thing to do at a party. We learned about this second hand. Apparently, Lucy was circulating through the guests asking "Are you a Mom? Are you a Mom? My friend has a pooey butt and needs a Mom to wipe it." Nobody works a party like Lucy.

 

Alice spent her party time practicing the steps. UP, DOWN, UP, DOWN. And every now and then a dog named Scout would come and lick her face. We're not sure if it was the sweat, the sunscreen, the ocean flavor, the leftover banana split or the barbecue sauce the dog liked so much. But clearly the combination was right up there with Beggins Strips.

 

Lucy had one difficult party issue, which was that other people weren't partying quite as much as she wanted. Betty and Ken's house had a pool, and Lucy was flabbergasted -- to the point of tears -- that folks weren't in it. I told her she had to wait after dinner and she said "I HATE COMPROMISE!" She did offer to give me a back scratch if I would let her swim before dinner, but I told her no deal.  This didn't stop her. After that, she went from person to person asking if they wanted to swim with her, even persuading one  kind sucker to follow her all the way to our car down the street where her suit was locked inside.

 

When she finally did get in the pool, she realized that unlike the Sea Lodge, the pool was kept at a normal temperature, which she described as "freezing."  She swam for 2 minutes.

 

Alice didn't fare much better. I removed her shoes and put her feet in the pool. She screamed. I put them in the pool again. And she screamed again. So I stopped doing that.

 

Some cake and ice cream later, we headed back to the Sea Lodge and I took Lucy for a late-night swim. Alice had passed out in her crib.

 

This was another old man moment for me, as I peeled off my shirt and lowered myself into a pool filled with bikini-clad nublie teen girls who looked at me as though I were the elephant man. I sucked in my gut, and pretended I looked good, at which point  I heard a chorus of quiet "as ifs." So I just focused on Lucy who asked me if I would pretend to be Shamu, the whale. I obliged. Ker-Splosh!